North Island Day 6: ZORRRRRB!

Ah yes. The smell. You can't talk about Rotorua without mentioning the smell, it's sort of compulsory. Most people who've been to NZ are aware that Rotorua stinks like eggs. When eggs smell like eggs its fine but when something that isn't eggs smells like eggs suddenly it becomes so very very wrong. In some parts its rotton eggs, in others its not too bad but it's all on account of the fact the the whole place is built on masses of geothermal activity which can be viewed for free at a local park. Rotorua is also great because you can get away with dropping your guts and just blaming the steaming pools of sulphur. Bliss.

Be Glad It Ain't Smell-O-Vision

The weather wasn't great so we bypassed the Agrodome and I introduced Andrea to her very first backpackers ever and the joys of deciding who got landed with the top bunk. After sleeping in a tent for the last couple of nights she just wanted to be as far off the ground as possible so she was happy up top. By that time the weather had cleared up a bit so we headed back out to find the Zorbing.

Zorbing, for those who live under rocks or on Mars, is where they put you in a big, plastic ball and throw you down a hill. You can go down the straight track with one or two mates or you can go it alone down the zigzag track, either strapped in or with a bit of water for extra lubrication. Its. So. Cool.
When you first rock up you look at the slopes and they seem a bit, well, disappointing. They look a bit small from the bottom but once you're in your Zorb and you've launched yourself down the zigzag you discover they're plenty big enough but once isn't enough and it's a perfect way for filthy backpackers who've been living out of the back of a Camry to get clean.

A word of advice though; take socks. They only recommend you wear socks if you have noticably long toenails on account of the fact there are seams inside the Zorb that you can catch them on and pull them back. This freaked me out enough to head back to the car and ferret out a pair that you couldn't break with a hammer or that hadn't crawled under a seat and started building a nest.

We threw ourselves down a couple of times each, got well and truly soaked before Andrea changed into dry clothes and I kicked myself for not thinking about bringing dry clothes.

Later on, my mate Spiky came down from Auckland with Tash and Sam and we hit up Lava Bar for a few drinks where I highlighted the fact that I'm a total lightweight and got absolutely hammered. Cheered me up no end though after a random emo moment I'd had earlier. Spiky's pretty much been my rock since me and Kama split up.

Spiky, Me, Sam And Tash

Once I'm back in Auckland m'dear, me an you are hittin town. Vodka is the perfect cure for everything. Trust me. Vodka makes everything good again.

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written by  Koala Bear on January 18, 2009 from Rotorua, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Tiny Little NZ Road Trip
tagged RoadTrip, LovinIt and NorthIsland
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